Her Hollywood Hitman: A Dark Romantic Suspense Read Online Free PDF Page A

you're that woman's daughter, right?” The bartender looked me up and down as if trying to read the history written on my body.

    I nodded and watched as he poured the top shelf vodka into a tumbler. Glass, of course. Only the most ridiculous shit for a Hollywood party. I took it and left. Normally these parties had someone wandering around with colorful drinks. It was weird that there was a bar instead, but I'd seen stranger things. The director was probably young and hadn't figured out exactly how things were done around here. I mixed my drink with the straw, slowly sipping it as I passed by the partygoers, smiling and nodding at the few people I knew. I had hoped to see some of the young actresses I was friendly with, or the male model I’d kissed last summer. Instead, I sat down at one of the spacious outdoor sofas and watched as people schmoozed and drank.

    Where’d that dude even go? I watched the crowd shuffle and move like a living thing, but there was no evidence of red-gold hair above the crowd. Maybe he’d gotten so pissed off that he left. That’d be a pity. I’d like to see him manage me at the end of a night .

    The spark of desire lit inside my body as the alcohol took over. I shifted again, trying to escape the rise of sensation. Red, that man. Like a Norse god. All broad muscles and cold, deep eyes. And not a bit interested in Rose’s daughter. Maybe I’m not his type.  

    I took another drink and sat back, watching for Red. I almost didn’t notice when a man came and sat down next to me, leaning in and whispering in my ear.  

    “You’re Art’s girl, aren’t you? Daughter of the Hollywood Rose?” I nodded, trying not to look over at him. This must have been the director my dad had wanted me to meet. Lovely. I usually enjoyed putting on my mask and pretending, but for some reason, the Los Angeles drama wasn’t suiting my mood.

    “Yeah. My dad sent me here hoping that I might get in the business. He always does this shit. Preferable to spending time with me when I’m home, I suppose.” I took a sip of my drink and looked over at the man. He was handsome in a smarmy way, with a perfectly tailored shirt open just at the top.  

    “Clay Swift,” he said. I turned and shook his hand, still trying to keep my body angled away from him. “I could get you an audition if you want. The next production I’m working on definitely needs an up-and-coming actress, and hell, you’ve already got a familiar face.”

    “No offense, Clay, but I’m just here for the drinks and people-watching.” I didn’t usually let my sarcasm come out for the Hollywood events. I’m not sure why I didn’t. Maybe I thought I was representing the best parts of my mom. Or maybe I was just there for the free drinks, or for something to do. It had been months since I’d flaunted myself for my father’s pleasure. I’d at least found a few people to talk to at the last one. Tonight, it was all just irritating. I wondered if I could apologize for removing the cigarette from Red’s mouth. Or if I should apologize. Or if he should.  

    “A spicy one, just like your mother,” said Clay, touching my arm. I shrugged away from him and stood up.  

    “You didn’t know my mother.” My stomach twisted in knots at the mention of my mother. People who knew me shied away from the topic, but it was clear this douchebag was interested in the gruesome story. And why wouldn’t he be? My dad had sent me here to take advantage of my history. That same thought had occurred to me before, but I could usually find something redeeming in a night out among the questionably famous.  

    “Hey, princess, calm down,” he said, smiling and running his fingers through his perfectly coifed hair. “I get it. You don’t want to be compared to your mom, and you probably don’t like talking about her. But why do you come? I know you run these circuits from time to time.”

    “It’s better than sitting in a big lonely house with my